There's Not Always A Tomorrow
by TheReflection
Summary: Ties into the events of "White as the Driven Snow": This time, Lisbon saves them, no matter what the cost. Rated T for mentions of child abuse and the use of swearwords.
1. Chapter 1

Hello there!

I've had a longer break now, and I decided to finally finish this fic and post it.

This has been swarming around my head ever since the episode "White as the Diven Snow" aired, which is a long time by now. It ties into the events of said episode.

This story is rated T because of the mentions of child abuse and the use of swearwords. It is rather dark, and the outcome is very different from the show, and not in canon. Leave it to you to guess, now :)

I am aware this prologue doesn't say much, let's just say it comes from a very dark place in my head :) It's written from Lisbon's point of view, but not all of this story is.

This fic won't be very long, a few thousand words and maybe three or four chapters and an epilogue, I'm not sure yet how to divide it all.

Please remember I am not a native speaker. Whenever you find mistakes you can't leave there, please let me know.

I hope to hear from you, whether you like this story or not. In both cases, tell me why!

Now, enjoy!

TheReflection

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><p><em>"<em>_You have no idea how much you meant – how much you mean to me."_

That's what he said.

Only I harshly doubt that. Added to that, I have one concern that beats them all: Will we make it or will we die trying? Are we strong enough or will we fail because we lack in strength?

What do _you_ think? What is _your_ opinion on this?

What, you don't answer me?

Normally you seem oh-so-eager to share your opinion on things, unasked and unwanted.

But, of course you don't answer me. You _can't_. Because you know _nothing_.

You, as the reader, _can't_ know anything. Why?

Because you can read the words. You can feel what they express, maybe.

But you will never _know_ them. _Experience_ them.

So I'll let you read about this. You will read the words, my warning long forgotten, and you will think you know.

I'll let you draw your own conclusions about how much you know, then, and refrain from reminding you of the truth.

But, whatever conclusions you draw, know this: _You are wrong_.

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><p>(Note: Please don't take these words personally. Lisbon is rather bitter in this story, so be prepared for more.)<p> 


	2. Recap

Hello there!

Firstly, thanks to Guest for your review. Glad to hear it's so "urgent" ;D

This is mostly a recap of the events leading up to "White as the Driven Snow". I hope I'm accurate in recounting them, it's been a while since I saw the episodes. Feel free to correct me if I get something wrong.

Lisbon might a bit OOC towards the end, but cut me some slack, please. Otherwise, the story wouldn't work out.

Please let me know what you think of this!

Enjoy - TheReflection

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><p>To her, it seemed as if an eternity had passed.<p>

It had all begun with dinner at a sushi restaurant with Osvaldo Ardilles in his tasseled loafers and his claiming to be monitored. In her opinion, all he was was being paranoid. She still had told the Rigsbys to look into it, and they had, ultimately finding the same Osvaldo Ardilles dead, bound to a comfy chair, a knife sticking out of his chest.

Grace Rigsby had found out that Osvaldo Ardilles had not been wrong and not the only one being bugged. The Rigsbys' phones, hers, Cho's and Jane's as well as the phones of a few other ex-CBI-employees had all been listened in on for a while.

Their search had led them back to an old friend – J.J. LaRoche. Albeit unwillingly, he had agreed to helping them in order to fulfill his longing for a drama-free life. What he'd gotten was a bullet to the chest. He'd been searching an old storage-room and stepped right into a trap. A wire connected to a gun had fired at him seemingly of its own accord and he'd died in Rigsby's arms. LaRoche's dog would have to live ownerless from now on. She pitied it a little.

Grace and Wayne had been attacked then, in their own home, shot at in the presence of little Maddie. Rigsby had managed to lock himself in a closet with their child, Grace had scared the intruder away, and all three of them had made it out unscathed.

The Rigsbys, seeing how they knew the most about the case, had been ordered to Austin, into the headquarters of the FBI, hired as consultants on said case. They gathered suspects from old case files and begun gathering info about those. She'd even had to apologize to one of them because she'd dug into his "privacy" without being authorized. She'd hated herself and that scumbag of a man in that moment.

Then Grace had vanished. Wayne had been out with Jane and Cho, and she'd been taken straight from their hotel room. Needless to say both Rigsby and Jane went completely nuts.

Once they had found only Haibach had the possibility to be behind this crime and had wanted to gather forces to search for him, Wiley had come up and told them that a man had announced himself at the entrance desk. No other than Richard Haibach himself.

It had been clear from the beginning that he knew more than he let on. He'd come in showing them evidence that he'd had no chance of doing anything to Grace, giving them signatures of fellow bus riders and the driver as well as a video of himself on said hour-long bus ride to Austin.

And then he'd said, if he'd have to guess, he'd say Grace was somewhere far away. Rigsby had attacked Haibach, shouting at him, and shoving him against a wall. Cho'd had to drag him away.

And Jane had very openly threatened him. He'd said he had nothing to lose. It made her sad to hear that, for she'd hoped maybe he had found something else to live for, now that he'd returned to the US.

Haibach had lawyered up, and they'd had to let him go.

And then, suddenly, both Jane and Rigsby had gone. As soon as she'd noticed their absence, her stomach hand grown cold. Something was up.

Of course she couldn't know it was Jane who was posing as the lawyer's chauffeur, and that he didn't take the right exit onto the highway, and left said lawyer stranded at the side of a street in order to pick up Rigsby and have his way with Haibach.

All she knew was that Abbott thought she and Cho knew and he was blaming them, accusing them of helping. She was angry, because this wasn't supposed to happen anymore. It had been the old ways of the CBI, Jane messing up and getting her suspended, reprimanded and even fired.

_This was _not_ supposed to _fucking_ happen anymore_, she thought grimly, but kept a straight face and went on with telling Abbott she hadn't known. She could see it in his eyes that he didn't believe her.

So, when he finally let her and Cho go, she got into her own car without telling anyone, thinking _What the hell, I'm probably going to get fired again anyways_ and stepped onto the accelerator as hard as she could.

It was a long drive. And it was going to take a lot of luck on her side to get anyone out of this mess alive on her own.

She didn't want to drag Cho into this, deniability and all. And seeing how she hated Abbott's guts in that moment, she didn't want to ask for his help.

She was well aware it was pure stupidity. But then, who was there to care about it?

Lisbon certainly didn't. All that mattered to her was getting to them in time to do something to help them.


	3. Going To Hell

Here we go again, guys. This is where we finally veer off course a large bit. I have finally decided to post more like short-ish chapters, because that fits what's going on a lot better.

This is written from Jane's POV.

I just wanted to thank the four people who put a follow on this Story :D

Please, let me know what you think, as always. I know it feels like it's slow going, but I think things pick up in the next chapter.

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><p>It had all gone awry. He could almost hear Lisbon's voice in his head, yelling <em>I told you so<em>. And god, was she right.

Haibach had led them straight to Grace, but he had warned his sister, and she had hid herself and when they'd come into the cabin and Rigsby had hastened to Grace's side, wanting to free her of her bonds, her eyes had gone wide and she'd try to warn him, and Rigsby had turned around and been shot straight in the chest. He'd slumped against the floor, lying there, motionless. Grace was crying now.

Hazel, still the crazy look in her eye and the shotgun in hand, smiled at her brother.

"So, Mr. Jane," Haibach said, grinning at him, his face looking like a sloppily put together mass of unbaked bread. "I'll have to talk to my dear sister on my own for a while. You and the newly widowed Mrs. Rigsby here will wait in the next room."

They were unceremoniously shoved into the other room and he drew Grace close, leaning against the wall, until she had cried herself to sleep. He didn't know how much time passed. All he could hear apart from Grace's and his own breathing were muffled voices from the next room, but he couldn't make out what they said through the thick wood. He admired the constructors for their solid work. But then it wasn't like he cared much. Rigsby was dead. Lisbon was miles from here. Grace was a widow now.

It had all gone to hell. Again.

He seriously hated himself.

Then the door opened and Grace was roused, not anywhere near gentle, from her sleep, in order to be dragged back into the kitchen alongside him.

"I'll just be outside, I have to make some…_preparations,_" Haibach said mysteriously, not smiling this time, "and my sister will watch you meanwhile. Don't do anything stupid, for I doubt you'll want to end up like Osvaldo or J.J., right?"

Then he turned and left the cabin.

Silence reigned while Hazel kept her mad eyes on them and Grace tried hard to rein the tears in. Jane stood leaning against the wall, until a quiet cough alerted them. Grace turned around so rapidly she seemed to hurt herself, but she squealed when she noticed Wayne's chest was still rising and falling.

She began sobbing, squeezing her eyes shut, and Jane knew it was the relief. Hazel poked her with the rifle.

"Keep quiet, little bitch," she said, and Grace kept the sobs in, but the tears still flowed freely.

Jane relaxed against the wall, happy beyond belief that Rigsby was still alive. He still didn't know how long they'd been here, though, and he was aware that if help didn't come soon, it was most likely he was going to bleed and freeze to death. Jane briefly was tempted to pray, then decided against it.

Instead, he urged Lisbon in his head to get a move on.

Suddenly, there was a creak outside, like a log in the floor that was too old to hold much weight. Hazel's head whipped round and jumped out of her chair.

Someone was coming.


	4. Going Ahead

Now, don't shoot me please for what's ahead, instead, enjoy and let me know what you think!

TheReflection

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><p>Jane held his breath and let his eyes wander to Grace, who was rigid in her chair, straining to hear something. Rigsby's labored breathing was the only thing that reached their ears.<p>

And then, the backdoor slowly swung open, creaking as it did so. It hit the wall with a soft thud, then there was the barely audible scratch of the soles of shoes on the wooden floor and the rustling of clothing. Whoever it was, they were slowly edging forward.

If it were Hazel's brother, he would not creep in here like a thief. It had to be someone who intended to rescue them and who had chosen the worst possible moment for it.

_But then, when is there _ever _the right moment?_

Maybe Cho, or Fischer, or – _Lisbon_.

Jane had to suppress the urge to groan. He suddenly didn't want her here anymore. She had no idea what awaited her, and, worst of all; she didn't know that madwoman was standing to the right of the doorway, pressing herself against the wall, waiting for her.

Then, Lisbon's gun became visible, and he barely resisted the urge to shout, to warn her.

Before she could take another step, Hazel growled: "Drop the gun, girl."

Although he couldn't see her face, Jane knew exactly what Lisbon looked like right now.

Her whole small body drawn as tight as a spring, closing her eyes, knowing she had no choice. Her opponent had the upper hand, so she gulped, and then they – he, van Pelt and Haibach's sister – watched as the gun was lowered and ultimately laid on the floor.

"Kick it away," Hazel ordered.

Lisbon did as she asked, and the gun skittered away from her, hobbling over the uneven and worn-out wooden planks.

"Now, come in a few steps, and don't turn around."

Slowly, Lisbon complied, not wanting to make any sudden movements. When she had stopped again in her tracks, she raised her eyes to meet Jane's.

Even though it was ice-cold outside, Lisbon was only wearing a T-Shirt with her jeans and boots. He could see small beads of sweat glisten on her forehead.

He couldn't read what he saw in her eyes very well – in that moment, she was opaque. She did not seem very frightened, although she might have buried away her fear under many layers of professionalism. Police Academy had taught her how to deal with situations like the one they were currently in.

But, underneath it, he detected something akin to fierce determination, fueled by anger, if her clenching and unclenching fists were any indication.

Hazel continued pointing her rifle at Lisbon from behind her, then started walking around to face her, picking up Lisbon's gun in the process. Her footsteps were plump compared to Lisbon's barely audible entrance.

"You little bitch, thought sneaking in here was that easy, huh?" Hazel spit.

Lisbon just watched her, alert. Hazel exchanged the rifle for the Lisbon's gun, pointing that at her instead. Hazel's movements were fast: she turned Lisbon around so they were standing sideways to Jane, and as the woman came to a stop in front of Lisbon, she pointed the gun straight at her chest. Jane felt like throwing up.

"Come to rescue your dirty little friends, huh?" Haibach's sister snarled.

"As a fact, yes," Lisbon answered.

_Wrong thing to _say, Jane thought.

The weapon jerked and Hazel took a step closer to Lisbon. "Shut up or I'll shoot you."

Then Lisbon did something that made Jane wish he had never been born.

She took another step forward, until the gun's muzzle pressed into her alabaster skin, directly over her heart, and said, completely calm, words he himself had uttered earlier: "Go ahead. I got nothing to lose."


	5. Talking Them Down

Hello!

Now, actually I want to let you read this first, then say a few words - so: enjoy!

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><p>Hazel seemed caught off guard. She looked at Lisbon with narrowed eyes.<p>

"Go on," Lisbon almost whispered, "shoot me."

"Yeah, right. Reverse psychology, or what?" Hazel sneered, but still was fazed by Lisbon's reaction to being held at gunpoint.

"No. I'm serious. You could just shoot me, and then I'd be dead. End of story."

Hazel frowned.

"Only, you know what?" Lisbon went on in a conversational tone.

Hazel cocked her head and narrowed her eyes a fraction more.

"You won't. Because this is what your brother told you to do. And not what _you_ want to do."

Hazel pushed the weapon violently forward, into Lisbon's chest, and Lisbon jerked the fraction of a step backwards.

"You don't know anything! You just don't grasp any of this, because you don't _know_! My brother protected me! I'd just do about anything for him! He didn't deserve anything that happened to him!"

He watched Lisbon process what she had just heard and saw the moment something clicked.

"What do I not know, Hazel?" Lisbon asked.

Jane wanted to grab and shake her. He could see the muzzle of the gun tick in time with her heartbeat. It didn't seem overly rapid for her precarious position. If it had been him standing there, his heart racing like it did just now, he would have been shaking like a leaf, yet Lisbon didn't seem to mind much.

_What is it she wants to do?_

His brain was too mussed up to think straight, he just couldn't make any sense of her actions. In this moment, he hated her. For standing there, just a hair's breadth away from death, and being so impossibly calm.

"You use my first name, right? That's a police tactic. Make them think you know them. Make them think you care, am I right?"

Lisbon looked her straight in the eye. "It is, you are right. But I still would like to know what I don't know. The thing your brother protected you from."

"Playing sympathetic, are we?"

"Not playing, no."

Hazel's fingers stretched around the trigger, then grasped it tighter.

"I don't want to pull that stupid crap they show on TV," Lisbon said, "it is nothing like the truth anyways. I won't pretend that I can help you."

Hazel un-narrowed her eyes. "Might as well tell you, before I shoot you."

Jane wanted to slap Lisbon as she even managed a smile. The gun continued ticking in sync with her heartbeat.

"Yeah, might as well," she said.

Hazel pursed her lips before saying: "My mom ran away when we were both young. Left us with a drunken dad, who nearly beat us to death."

If possible, Lisbon went even whiter than she had been already and her lips fell apart slightly. "That's not in your file."

Hazel laughed a rough, bellowing laugh. "Yeah. 'Cause we never reported it, that's why. Loved him too much, that asshole."

"And your brother protected you from the beatings, right?"

"Don't act as if you understood anything about this," Hazel hissed, her eyes narrowed again.

For a moment, Lisbon said nothing, looking at the floor. Before she spoke again, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and gulping.

"But I do understand it."

Of course, Jane thought, the spinning thoughts in his head coming to a sudden halt.

_Smart._

She _had_ read about this in Haibach's file – even if he and his sister had never reported their father, neighbors might have uttered suspicions to social services or something -, and come here to somehow use that information, and her own experiences in getting to him and his sister, to stop them from doing whatever it was that they had planned.

And now she was succeeding.

"Oh, you do, don't you?" Hazel mocked.

Jane knew what was about to come. He could see the wheels turning in Grace's head, too, and knew she also had figured it out.

Lisbon's voice held a barely audible tremor when she answered. "My mother died when I was twelve…and I…I ended up taking care of my three younger brothers. My dad turned to alcohol, because he…just couldn't deal with it. And then, he'd beat us. Me and my brothers. I used to…take beatings for them, so it wouldn't be them who'd end up in hospital again."

Hazel bit her lip. "Could as well be made up, your sob-story you got there."

"It's not a story," Lisbon said, sounding bitter, cold and harsh, "I can show you the scars if you like. We could compare, you know. Compare our battle scars, us, the survivors."

Hazel snorted. "Survivors! You got it. I'm lucky I'm alive."

This time, it was Lisbon who took a step forward, and the ticking of the gun sped up a little, as did her breathing.

"I know what it feels like to be thrown into the floor, Hazel, I know what it feels like to be beaten with a leather belt and a metal buckle, I know what it feels like when it digs into your skin, and I know what it is like to be pushed up against a wall and nearly choked to death. I know what it is like to cower in the corner of the living room, about to lose consciousness, and watch my brother be beaten up the same as me. _I know_, Hazel, I know it all."

Hazel stared at her wide eyed, with a far off look on her face, looking almost scared, trapped in the memories of her childhood.

When, all of a sudden, Lisbon brought up her left hand to grip Hazel's right forearm, the madwoman's eyes flicked back into focus, but it was too late.

Jane held his breath as a shot rang out.

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><p>Why I dragged Lisbon's past into this?<p>

As I said, ever since the episode aired, this has been in my head. And why? Because Hazel mentioned her past that sounded awfully similar to Lisbon's.

The show only gives us an idea of what was in Lisbon's childhood, and it has been very well explored in fanfiction, but I wanted to show you my own take on it, putting it in a bigger, different context.

So, here you go.

Now, don't shoot me (pun not intended) for this meanest of all cliffhangers. Please review!

Oh, and thanks to all who put a follow on this! It means a lot to me!


	6. Anticipation

There's not really much to say. Just enjoy - and let me know :)

Thanks to all those who read as always!

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><p><em>Lisbon's hand fell away as blood seeped onto the black fabric of her T-shirt, barely visible from where Jane was standing, and yet he knew it was there, sticky and warm. <em>

_He did not care that Hazel was there still, wielding a gun. He just fell to his knees, catching Lisbon as her legs gave in, unable to support her weight any longer. _

_All she had left was seconds. Her breath rasped through her windpipe, and it was nothing like those romantic movies, where she would declare her undying love for him while – ironically – dying in his arms. _

_All she had time for was forcing her eyes to look at him with a lot of pain, anguish, even, before her eyelids drooped shut and the air left her completely. _

_He dropped her body to the floor, turning to Hazel. _

_She was pointing her gun at him already, and he closed his eyes, anticipating the darkness that enveloped him._

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><p><em>Lisbon was hit in the head, Hazel had moved her hand with an agility Jane hadn't thought she possessed. <em>

_She crumpled like a marionette of which the strings had been cut, and he flung himself at Hazel. In his blind rage, he didn't see the fist coming which connected with his jaw, and he fell to the floor, not even managing to reach the madwoman._

_He heard another gunshot, and he saw Grace slump in her chair, droplets of blood and brain matter hitting the floor._

_His head was swimming and he felt like throwing up when he felt the barrel of the gun against his temple. He didn't mind._

_A world without Lisbon was not worth living in._

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><p><em>Jane tackled Hazel from the side, and the bullet entered Lisbon's stomach instead of her heart. <em>

_The two of them painfully fell into the table, and Hazel howled. He tried to hold her flailing body down with all of his weight, reaching for the gun. _

_Barely managing to rip it from her grip, he hit her upon the head with the gun's butt, knocking her unconscious._

_Haibach came scrambling through the door, having heard the shot, and Jane, in his panic, pulled the trigger four times. He fell to the floor, blood pooling around him._

_He then ripped the duct tape from Grace's mouth, not caring about being gentle, and she shouted at him, something like calling 911, but as he looked at his phone, he saw he had no reception._

_Jane dropped to his knees next to Lisbon, taking off his jacket, getting caught in one of the armholes in his haste, but then pressed it to the wound in her stomach, through which there poured her blood._

_His jacket was soaked in no time._

_He whispered to her, trying to keep her awake, but her eyes fluttered shut nonetheless, and she slipped into unconsciousness. _

_Then, in the nick of time, Cho arrived, and Jane knew it was mandatory to have an ambulance there when there were shots or a struggle to be expected._

_The EMTs were working on her calmly and efficiently, eventually putting her onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask over her face, loading her into the ambulance._

_He wasn't allowed to ride with her in the back, and it frustrated him to no end._

_The surgery took hours, and he lost count of them._

_It took five days for her to wake up._

_Her first words when she saw him were: "Who the hell are you? Get out of my room! Nurse!"_

He felt like dying.


	7. Getting Out Unscathed

Hey there!

I'm back again with another chapter - and after this, there are only two more to follow. Alas, we are nearing the end.

I really don't know what those thingies Grace was tied up with are called in English, so if anyone wants to help me out there... ;)

Well, then, let this be all I have to say apart from: Enjoy!

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><p>But, Jane realized, that was only in his head. Reality looked different.<p>

Lisbon had pushed Hazel's elbow upwards with her left, so the gun was pointing at the ceiling, the bullet narrowly missing and burrowing its way into the wall behind her, grabbed the barrel of the weapon with her right and ripped it from a stunned opponent, striking Hazel across the face with the gun's butt. Hazel dropped to the floor, knocked out, blood from a laceration staining her cheekbone red.

And Lisbon was alive.

All his breath seemed to leave Jane and he had to hold on to the wall behind him in order not to fall as his legs threatened to give in. Grace began whimpering against the duct tape over her mouth, her eyes swimming with tears.

Lisbon quickly moved over to her, her eyes falling on Rigsby's still form for the first time. She stopped in her movements.

Jane saw the exact moment she registered the red stains on his shirt, but didn't give her much time to process the meaning of it. They had to get out of here as fast as possible.

He scraped together all of the strength he had, and said in a hoarse voice: "Haibach is still out there."

At once, Lisbon was back into cop-mode, and searched for something to sever Grace's ties. She found an old kitchen knife and sawed Grace into freedom. The woman immediately slid from the chair to the floor, ripping the duct tape from her face in the process, crawling over to her husband. His breathing was barely visible anymore.

"Grace," Lisbon whispered, touching her shoulder.

"I can't leave him here," she said, her voice thick with tears.

Lisbon seemed close to tears herself. "I know. We'll alert EMTs as soon as we've dealt with Haibach. Now, where did Hazel get your ties from?"

Grace pulled herself up from the floor, went up to a drawer and handed Lisbon the ties, who secured Hazel's hands and feet so she couldn't get away.

Then Lisbon motioned to them to keep quiet and they edged their way onto the patio.

They were halfway around to the front when they heard another gunshot. All three of them froze, then Lisbon motioned to them to stay where they were while she moved forward, her gun poised in front of her, ready to shoot to kill.

When she had reached the cabin's corner, Jane saw her relax, lower her gun and from the rise and fall in her shoulders, he gathered she had taken a deep breath to defuse the tension in her body.

He took that as their cue to come forward, and he grabbed Grace's hand. There, in the plain covered in snow, Cho stood, his gun still smoking, and Haibach lying on the ground in front of the cabin.

"He was trying to attack me with a damn axe," he said, "had to shoot him."

Lisbon shot Jane and Grace a short glance, then Jane saw a slow, exhausted smile spread over her face.

The axe still clasped in the dead man's hand, Jane watched as blood trickled out of the perfectly round hole in Haibach's forehead and into the shell of his ear.


	8. Teaching A Lesson

Shortly after discovering Cho had dealt with Haibach for them, Abbott had arrived with the cavalry, even a helicopter. A swarm of SWAT people had closed in on the cabin, cleared the house and escorted a still half-unconscious Hazel Haibach into a state issue SUV.

They were thoroughly reprimanded by Abbott for going out on their own, while Fischer stood to the side, glaring at them.

Then, both of them shook their hands, letting the off-record smiles show that let them know they weren't really angry. They even congratulated them, especially Lisbon and Cho, for their "extraordinary work".

Wayne was carted off in an ambulance, Grace riding in the back with him, being tended to as well. The EMTs were worried for Wayne, which had upset Grace a whole lot. He was still breathing on his own, but he had lost a lot of blood and lying on that cold floor for hours hadn't done anything to help. They had to wait and see.

Jane and Lisbon followed them, chauffeured by a colleague. He dropped them off at the hospital Grace and Wayne had been admitted.

They sat down in the waiting room, being joined by Grace not long after. Upon seeing them, she smiled, but it was a sad and exhausted smile.

"I'm fine," she said.

Seeing the question in their eyes: "They're doing surgery on him right now. I was told to wait here until they had something more to say."

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><p>Jane was roused from an uncomfortable sleep by Lisbon's soft voice.<p>

"Wayne's out of surgery and awake," she said, smiling through the exhaustion. She obviously hadn't taken the opportunity to catch a little nap. "He's lost a lot of blood, but he'll be fine."

"Good," Jane said, feeling his lips curl upwards, relief washing over him.

He lifted himself out of his seat, following Lisbon down a maze of corridors, thinking again of how she had entered the cabin, what danger she had gotten herself in.

Before they had a chance of entering Rigsby's room, he grabbed her upper arm, dragging her a few doors away again, sudden anger bubbling up inside him.

"What were you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.

She looked at him, not grasping what he wanted from her. "What?"

"What were you thinking, coming without backup? You had no guarantee your plan was going to work out!" he clarified impatiently, not letting go of her arm.

Lisbon narrowed her eyes. "That's rich, coming from you. For _years_ I told you the same, and did you listen? _No_, of course not! And now _you_ are telling _me_ I should have thought things through better before coming to your goddamn _rescue_?"

"I admit, we were in dire need of a rescue, if that axe was any indication for what was going to happen, but _what were you thinking_?" he repeated.

"In case you haven't noticed yet, Jane, you aren't the only one who cares about them! For a very long time after I met you, I thought all we were to you was a means to an end, and now, that has changed, but don't you _dare_ think for a _second_ you are the one with a monopoly on caring about people!"

Jane huffed. "Oh, I don't doubt you care about them."

"Then what has you so riled up?" Lisbon snarled.

"For example the way you were acting back there!" he said, his voice raising.

"Oh, and what exactly was the way I was acting back there?" she asked, her hands firmly on her hips now, matching his volume.

"Like you had nothing to lose! Using the info about Hazel's past that is so very similar to your own was brilliant, I give you that, but you really had me there for a second, I really believed you thought your own life didn't matter anymore."

Now, Lisbon's face scrunched itself into an irritated frown. "There was no info about her past, Jane. You read the file, too, there was no mention of an abusive father."

For a moment, Jane was taken aback. She was right. "Then how did you know?"

She shook her head slowly. "I _didn't_ know."

The anger returned full force. She'd gone in there, having nothing apart from a gun and no backup as well as no idea what was coming her way?

"Then what the hell was your plan? How were you planning on taking down two armed opponents, huh?"

"Hell, Jane, I didn't _have_ a fucking plan, okay?! All I knew was I _had_ to get there, maybe I was going to talk them down like I did Hazel – because if you can do that over and over again and make it work, I certainly can -, or maybe I was going to die, I didn't know, but I _also_ didn't _care_!"

Her face turned a deep red while she took a few steps away from him, then turned, coming back, all the time shouting and gesturing wildly.

"I was prepared to _die _up there in that cabin, Jane, even if it only served to gain you some time, it didn't really matter to me! I would have _died_ for you, _and_ Grace, _and_ Wayne!"

Lisbon's agitation only grew, and the words spilled out of her even faster, so fast he had a hard time catching them all before they flowed into one another.

"Hazel spilling that stuff about her father was pure dumb luck, okay! This time, I had no brilliant plan that could blow up in my face, as _you_ always seem to have! Maybe I thought, _why not pull a Jane on this and see how it works out, perhaps it'll finally teach him a _lesson_, seeing how _yelling_ at him didn't help_!"

Her chest was heaving fast when she stopped in her rant, her eyes glimmering with rage, and Jane stared.

"You…you expected to _die_?" He looked at her, seeing the goose bumps rise on her arms. She had to be cold now.

Her anger hadn't subsided. He had never heard her shouting abuse to that extent, not even when she had told him down after another of his harebrained schemes.

"What do you care?" she spat. "You've played with my life before, and it didn't seem to matter to you _at all_. All you ever did was lie and cheat and play me, suck all the resources out of me, and look what it did to me – I got myself arrested and poked and prodded by the FBI, I lost my job, and then you come back and think you can play all happy and act as if all that _fuck_ never happened, and what do I do?

"I come crawling back to you, begging for more, and you even get me a job I can lose so you can pull your stupid stunts again. You have learned _nothing_, Jane. You haven't changed a _bit_."

She raised her hands to cover her face and ended on a bitter note.

"God, I am so stupid. I should have stayed in Cannon River. Or, better yet, I should have fired you when I still had the chance."

Jane was dumbstruck and at a loss for words. This was not what he had expected. It took him a while to find the ability to form words again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but judging by that faraway look in her eyes, she hadn't even heard him.

She shook her head. "Look how this plan turned awry on you. You wouldn't have gotten out if I hadn't gone after you."

A heavy sigh passed her lips. Although he saw she didn't really mean it, was _not_ serious about it, panic and anger rose inside him at her next words: "Maybe it would have been better if Red John had killed me back when he had me."

In a flash, he had her by her shoulders and was pushing her up against the wall. There was a surprised look in her face, but she quickly regained her balance, glaring at him.

"You don't get to say that!" he hissed. "I don't accept this!"

She raised her eyebrows, challenging him. "Says the man who went on a ten year revenge quest, not planning to survive it?"

His mouth fell open.

Lisbon choked out a bitter laugh. "What, you thought I didn't know? You never talked about your future after Red John, so that was the only conclusion I could draw. I bet that was another reason for your running away again apart from impending imprisonment, because you had no _freaking_ idea what to do with yourself after he was gone."

She was messing with him, and she was doing a damn good job of it.

He so much wanted to say it, wanted to tell her what he felt, wanted to tell her the reason why he had come back, why he had gotten her this job, why he had feared for her life, how it hadn't been his intention to put her in danger in the past.

But all that came out was: "Because…because…"

He choked on the words.

She sighed and freed herself from his grip. "See? My life doesn't matter in Patrick Jane's universe. Not anymore. The deed is done, and you don't have to feel like you owe anything to me."

Pursing her lips, she seemed to think about something for a moment, then nodded to herself. "I'm going to get a transfer as soon as the opportunity presents itself. Might as well keep the job. And now, I'm going to see my friends, say goodbye."

She disappeared into Rigsby's room, leaving him standing in the hallway.

A middle aged woman stared at him as she passed by, but he really didn't care.

* * *

><p>As soon as Lisbon had left the room, he went to see Grace and Wayne as well.<p>

"Hey," he said, smiling at them.

They saw right through his act.

"What happened, Jane?" Grace asked.

"Yeah, we heard shouting earlier. It sounded a lot like you and Lisbon, but she clamped up as soon as we asked her about it, said it was nothing," Wayne said.

"Didn't sound like nothing, though," his wife added.

He sighed, not feeling overly optimistic. "I'm sure we're going to work through this."

* * *

><p>Suffice to say, they didn't.<p>

And when Marcus Pike, whom they had met on a case, asked her to move away with him, she accepted.

He only heard about it the morning after she had left. Apparently, she had taken a late flight, clearing the stuff from her desk after he had already gone from the office.

Fischer, Cho and Abbott had been in on it. Even Wiley had known about it.

He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. He guessed there wasn't always a "tomorrow". A day on which to "work things out".

This was it, and he felt like dying.

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, please, please have mercy and don't kill me!

The thing is: At the moment, I'm really on a getting-back-at-Jane trip. I really don't like him at the moment. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for Jisbon, but I don't think he deserves that much leeway that Lisbon seems to be giving him. He's hurt her so much and she still takes him back - yes, I know, she's in love with him and all that jazz, but, in her shoes, I'd make him work a great deal for deserving my attentions.

Sorry if you think otherwise ;)

After this, there's only the epilogue left. That one will be from Lisbon's POV again.

As always, thanks for reading, and let me know what you think (even if you didn't enjoy) :)

TheReflection


	9. Epilogue

Hello guys!

This is it - the last, barely there chapter. It's written from Lisbon's POV again.

What I have forgotten for the entire story is the disclamer (shame on me), so here it comes: The only thing that belongs to me is the storyline deviating from the original TM episode. The rest belongs to Bruno Heller.

Special Shout-Outs go to LouiseKurylo and AwesomeGizmo, who have stuck to this story and really encouraged me.

Also, thanks to MichaellaD for enlightening me and to those who share my opinion.

Thanks as well to all those others who read and reviewed or just read.

You are all amazing!

Thanks so much - Yours, TheReflection

* * *

><p>So, what do you say?<p>

Do you feel it, the anxiety, the near panic when your heart beats against the muzzle of your own gun being pointed at you? The cold metal, slowly warming from your body heat?

The course of adrenaline giving you strength and calm you never thought you possessed?

The abandon welling up from where you buried it two years ago when he disappeared to Venezuela, and a few years before that when he went on his sabbatical in freaking Las Vegas, because it just won't stay down?

The triumph of finally leaving it all behind, of having gathered the strength to squelch the hurt and the love, just being empty?

An empty vessel, ready to be filled with a new love from a better man?

No?

Then, maybe, you're not trying hard enough.


End file.
